Cinnamon Bun

Chapter Eighteen – Pick a Pixie

I woke up a little sore but otherwise well-rested. Some bouncing around and a few stretches unlimbered all of my limbs, then a burst of cleaning magic woke me up better than a shower could ever manage.

Not that I wouldn’t take a shower if I was given the opportunity.

Orange plodded after me as I unmade camp, stuffed my book away, fetched a wine bottle to fill it with water, and generally got ready for the day while the morning was still fresh.

I was wary of drinking stream water, but a burst of cleaning magic directed at the bottle cleared out all the wiggly little things floating within. Hopefully that counted as filtering of a sort.

My morning business taken care of (thank goodness for Cleaning Rank C! No toilet paper, no problem!) I set Orange atop my hat, slid on my backpack, and made sure that the fire I had started was well and truly dead before continuing my trek.

I wasn’t just going to walk today though. Oh no. I had a plan and a small list!

I had spent some time thinking the night before as I stared up at the stars and rested my eyes from all my reading. The herbology book suggested that there were plenty of plants that grew in the wild that had good, helpful properties which I could use in a pinch.

Nothing super great, but some plants could be used as ingredients in healing potions and others could be brewed into teas that did all sorts of things. Some seemed mundane (Rasperberry tea helped with cramps) while others were outright fantastic (Sweet Artemisia's roots could be dried and then boiled into a tea that let you see in the dark!).

I had my eyes peeled on the ground, only occasionally hopping to the air to avoid parts of the road that were made unpassable by small trees and bushes. Every so often I’d detour just a little bit to look at some flowers and give them a sniff and a pat if they were doing a good job at being pretty.

“Orange, look!” I said maybe an hour into the day when I spotted a small patch of white flowers with big yellow centres. They were sitting in a small spot where the sun slipped through the old trees all around.

I skipped over and squated next to the flowers. The air smelled like bitter citrus, a smell that seemed to be attracting all of the local bees. A bit of leafing through my book and I was able to match the flower to a drawing, and even the description of its smell was spot on.

Feverfew

This wild plant is one of the most commonly used cures for headaches and fever-like symptoms in many hamlets. The leaves, once dried for a few days, can be used to make a simple tea or broth that will reduce fever symptoms.

“Cool,” I said before I started snipping some of the nicer leaves off of the long green stems and piled them atop my spade which was serving as a sort of plate. I tied it all together as a small bushel with a bit of stem, then fired off a cleaning spell to get rid of any yucky stuff. Animals peed in the woods after all.

The package of leaves went into one pocket of my bandoleer.

“Thank you!” I said to the flower before giving it a grateful bow and standing back up. Orange rejoined me a moment later and returned to her spot atop my hat.

The morning was very productive, I found some common plants that I would have recognized back home, like chamomile and milk thistle, and two more strange plants before noon.

Marsh Rose

The buds of this uncommon plant are a precious resource for travellers. Boiled, they produce a fragrant and flowery tea that can cure scurvy-like symptoms and can reportedly prevent the user from catching any infectious illnesses. When eaten raw the buds act as a powerful aphrodisiac.

Bloody Dandelion

A dangerous plant to handle for the novice or unwary. Bloody Dandelions can draw their petals in rapidly and snip the tip of a clumsy herbalist’s finger right off. The flower can be used for blood replenishing potions, iron-will potions and tinctures for curing skin-related ailments.

The page about the kind of creepy dandelions had a small recipe scribbled into it for a kind of potion that only required some heating and mixing and that would work as a very slow acting health potion as long as it was drunk while still warm. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that, but it was better to have the scary blood flower healing potion when you needed it than not.

I was happy with my haul for the morning, so when the sun was at its peak above, Orange and I found a nice clearing next to the foods and stopped for a sit.

“So, what’s it like being a spirit kitty?” I asked Orange as I filled my enchanted kettle with the last of my water and then tossed in some chamomile blossoms into it. I focused a bit and watched with a growing smile as the water bubbled and boiled within seconds. It cost me half a dozen points of mana, but it was worth it.

I let the tea steep for a moment, poured myself a cup, then, because I could, I added a pinch of honey.

“Ahh,” I said as I took a long sip. A few berries made my lunch a thousand times better.

Orange stared at me, but she didn’t want any tea or even a nibble of a berry, she just wanted to plop herself down on my lap for a snooze, and I was okay with that.

I was just thinking of packing up when I heard a flutter of wings, then another. It was as if a flock of panicked chickens were rushing my way. I didn’t even have time to jump to my feet before they were there.

Not chickens, I realized right away. Fairies!

They were small, vaguely humanoid little creatures that looked to be naked except for the occasional twine bandoleer or leafy belt. Some of them had sticks with pinecones at the tip like spears or small chipped teeth and fangs with stems around their base serving as swords and knives.

They glowed every colour of the rainbow, lighting up the clearing in a dancing parade of brilliant lights that spun and whirled and made me dizzy just from watching. I had a hard time keeping count of them, but there couldn’t be more than two dozen. “Hello!” I said.

The little fairies fluttered away from me, then returned in force when I waved a little.

One of them, brighter than the others, floated right up to me and stood with his hands on his little hips and his chest puffed out. “Chirp,” he said.

“Ah, I don’t speak that,” I explained. “Insight,” I said next while pushing a bit of mana into it.

A blue forest pixie (level 6)

It was two levels above me! But it looked so small and delicate. “Chirp chiirr,” he said, then waved at the forests around him.

“Do you need help with anything in the forest? Oh, are you welcoming me?” I asked.

The pixie shook its tiny head, pointed at me, then pointed away.

My heart sank. “You want me to leave?” I asked.

The pixie nodded. “Chrr chirp!” he said, quite obviously pleased with himself.

I pouted, but nodded to him all the same. Then I saw that a few of the other pixies were eyeing the jar of honey sticking out of my bag with pure, pixie-ish greed in their little eyes. I reached down and took the jar, then popped the lid off. “I’ll just take one last bite for the road,” I said as I stuck my spoon into the jar.

Every pixie eye in the clearing followed my spoon as it scraped a bit of honey off the top, then moved up towards my mouth. I paused, then turned the spoon around towards the pixie leader. “Do pixies like honey?” I asked.

It nodded violently.

“Ah. Okay. Do pixies trade? If I give you the rest of this jar, would you let me stay in your forest a little bit?”

The pixies all wavered at that, then, with a ‘chip chip’ from their leader, they fell into a big huddle, their glows almost melding into each other as they all chirped and chittered. I picked up Orange, who was still dozing so hard she was more liquid than cat, and placed her in the biggest pocket of my bandoleer, right over my chest.

The pixie leader came back, then chipped and chittered at a million miles an hour while gesturing at me, the jar, then the road and finally himself.

It took some trying, but I finally understood what he was saying. “You’ll escort me?” I asked.

The pixie nodded and I couldn’t help but grin. They weren’t human, and they seemed a little primitive, but I had made friends anyway. And all it cost was a bit of honey. I replaced the lid on the jar, and stuffed it into my backpack, ignoring the incensed and indignant looks from all the pixies, looks that disappeared when I pulled out an unopened jar and twisted the cap off. “Here you go!” I said.

The pixie gestured at the jar and it floated out of my grasp and into the air. Then he dove into it head-first, somehow making the hard honey turn liquid and melty a moment before splashing in.

The others gathered around, and I saw them taking big fistsfull of honey and stuffing them into their tiny faces.

It was a sight to see, so many teeny tiny gluttons gorging themselves on honey as if it was the best thing ever. They made cute little nomming noises as they chowed down and some of them floated down to the ground, their wings too sticky to fly.

I made myself another cup of tea while they had their little party. Soon, more pixies joined, smaller, shier ones that darted in, took some honey, then zipped away into the canopy above. I sipped my tea while I enjoyed the lightshow. It wasn’t as if I was in any hurry, and seeing my new friends having fun was a blast.

But then it was over and the lead pixie floated back up to me. He was slathered in honey and had one arm stuck in his mouth to the elbow like a big lollipop. He pointed and I nodded. “Lead the way,” I said as I stood up and picked up my bag.

He eyed the sack, then licked his lips.

“My new friends are greedy, aren’t they?” I said.

The pixies huffed and crossed his arms.

“I’ll give you the half full jar once we reach the edge of your territory, is that fair?”

“Chirupt!” He said before spinning around me a few times. The pixie shot ahead, then twisted around as if waiting for me to hurry up.

“Bye everyone!” I called to all the pixies. A good quarter of them were on the ground, hands rubbing across tummies that were fat with food babies. Some of them waved lazily at me so I waved right back before I stepped out of the little clearing and back onto the road. “Lead the way, Mister Blue,” I said.

The pixie tapped a dirty finger to his chin, then chirped an affirmative. I think it meant that he liked the name. Though really he was more of a golden-brown and blue now.

New friend guiding me, I set off on the road again, my mood as floaty and happy as the pixie next to me.